


Five Things about Carmilla's Mother (and one Thing about Carmilla)

by elektra121



Category: Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: F/F, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektra121/pseuds/elektra121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the titel says. A little treat or stocking stuffer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things about Carmilla's Mother (and one Thing about Carmilla)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PsychoPomposity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoPomposity/gifts).



**Carmilla had never seen someone so imposing.**  
The Lady she met on the ball wasn't young anymore or what you could call handsome (fine-looking, maybe), yet her eyes were penetrating every masquerade and her smiles cutting like sharp blades drawing blood, and her every word intoxicating like strong wine. Her perfume smelled like the most exquisite spices, her movements were those of a learned dancer, her laughter rang in the ears like music - the very air around her seemed to sizzle with electricity.  
No man could ever hope to be a match to this goddess. it was utterly ridiculous to even imagine Carmilla should want a man, when she could have her for a Mother. 

**Carmilla had never spoken to someone so wise.**  
Mother were teaching her like a cat would teach its young kitten: at first, killing a prey in front of their eyes, to show them how it was done. Later, bringing them half-dead victims, observing how they finished them off. Then, taking them with her, hunting together in the moonlight. And, at last, letting them wander freely and hunt for themselves. There seemed to be no end to all the things Mother knew - about people and customs and languages and nature and every art imaginable (some kinds of which she had never heard of and a lot of which she never had tried before).  
No human could ever come close to all that wisdom - but of course not, since Mother wasn't human. 

**Carmilla had never known someone so commanding.**  
She herself had been a countess, and a proud one at that, yet now she longed to bend to Mother's every will, obey each gesture, follow every word. it was some wicked desire burning deep inside her that the she hadn't known before and never would she know just how Mother had kindled it. She starved to drink from everyone Mother commanded, and ached to be drunken herself in return. Oh, such salty and sweet and sharp and delicious fulfilment - there was nothing like it in the whole wide world that was so great and marvellous, and more unfathomable than she ever could have imagined. 

**Carmilla had never heard of someone of so refined tastes.**  
Mother hardly ever bit men. In her opinion, and it became Carmilla's, too, there was nothing like the taste of girls. Even if they were so wonderfully different, there were yet so much the same. Pretty, sweet things of nature, like delicate flowers or aromatic raspberries, just waiting for a hand that plucked them, a mouth that tasted them; never daring to oppose an attack. Every one of them with their own beauty and distinct propensities - some doing embroidery, some reading Shakespeare, some kissing freely, some being shy.  
Where other people were proud of their taste in wine and knowledge about growing-districts, Mother distinguished a nationality in one mouthful of blood. 

**Carmilla had never thought there could be someone who hurt her so much.**  
It wasn't about the exotic little games Mother liked to play from time to time - this things hurt in a good way, sharp, clean, delicious. They were addictive, even. They made her feel special, cherished, loved. And it wasn't as if Mother had been deliberately cruel.  
Yet the pain when Carmilla witnessed her kissing or doing other things to Matzka, when she first understood there would never be a place for her in Mother's heart like the one that Matzka held - it was an agony that was ugly, messy, maddening. And one without an end. 

***  
Laura was nothing like Mother.  
She was pretty in the way healthy young girls are, yes, but more or less ordinary. She knew nothing of the mysteries of nature and night, wasn't even very worldly, for that matter. She had nothing imposing about her at all, she wasn't fond of commanding or had a taste for luxury - and yes, at times she could be stubborn and annoying.  
There wasn't the slightest logic in it. Yet, there had never been someone so dear to Carmilla. The girl just had to be hers. 

**Because Carmilla could be a Mother, too.**


End file.
